Seaweed
'Seaweed' is a short story written by for the Tenth Anniversary Contest. It focuses on a training session between Toa Hydros and his mentor Toa Zuvak. Story ''Squelch The webbed foot of Toa Hydros burrowed itself deep into the muck, his toes tensing as they struggled to find a grip within the thick, paste-like mud. With great reluctance and a well-worn grimace, Hydros brought his other leg into the water, and with each subsequent step, began to wade through the murky swamp ahead. One of the handful of nitpicks he had with his acute hearing were moments such as these, where he had no choice but to listen to the sickly suction of the soil that accompanied every press of his feet. He suspected life could be worse… Squelch. But upon reflection, he decided it wasn’t something he would wish upon anyone with a lesser constitution. As Hydros heaved one great leg out of mud, only to return it once again to that sticky abyss, he couldn’t help but consider how exposed he was right now. Not visibly exposed, per se - the dark mix of greens, reds and blacks adorning his body had allowed him to blend in rather well with the environment’s ugly colours. No, he was thinking more of his exposure to the rich, fertile soil he tread and the life that vibrated within it. His opponent was not a Toa of Sonics, nor one of Earth or Water, but Hydros made no mistake, this was their natural element. And as soon as they were done here, he knew he was going to hear about this for days on end. With every step he took into that filth, he knew he was only telegraphing his position more and more to his opponent. It was much like trying to stage a robbery at the Coliseum whilst being accompanied by a Le-Matoran playing a deep, brass instrument. As Hydros waded further out into the waters, he began to stretch out his legs as what constituted the ground slid deeper into the water – very soon, he couldn’t even touch it with his toes. The shallow waters were gone, and Hydros now found himself gently swimming towards the heart of a great lake, shrouded by a musty, green fog. Encircling the lake were an even number of thick and firmly rooted trees that stretched high above the mist in search of sunlight. When Hydros had finally rippled towards the central point of the lake, he paused to have one last look around and take a breath of the heavy, ill-scented air. He immediately resisted the reflex begging him to expel that odorous lungful through his nostrils. Assure in the knowledge that his opponent was not watching him, Hydros let out a long sigh and slowly lowered himself beneath the stubbornly humid water. It took just a moment for his hearing to adjust and even less time for his lungs to accept the transition from air to water. Within seconds, Hydros could feel his gills gently sipping the cloudy water. Indeed, the texture of the water said much of its character; underneath, it was not exactly a lake blessed with good looks. These depths hardly harkened to those cascades of beautiful, glittering blues that so entranced the Ga-Matoran. Rather, they were perhaps more inclined to remind Hydros of some of the thicker shades of brown he had seen colouring the shells of Ussal crabs. As Hydros further distanced himself from the dull glimmer of the surface, a new plan began to concoct in his head. He was certain his foe had detected the slurp of his feet in the mud, and would no doubt be making his way towards the lake. By his estimates, he had minutes. Perhaps there’s a way of turning that to my advantage, he mused. In this water, at this depth, it was unlikely his foe could reach him with a bad-tempered vine or branch or any other obscene vegetable matter. He just had to find a way to lure him to the lake’s edge, and then strike. Under the conditions imposed upon him, how he would strike was something of a challenge. Usually, he would have propelled himself out of the water with a jet of air, or perhaps use his fire powers to steam up the lake’s surface and thicken the mist, giving him the element of surprise. By Mata Nui, he would have even used his earth powers to solidify the mud earlier, hardening it in a way that meant he would not have completely given away his location in the first place. But no, Hydros had agreed to abide by the terms of this fight, even if that meant he could not use his elemental powers. His opponent, on the other hand, was free to use theirs. It was hardly a fair fight, but it had been proposed in the hopes of making Hydros less dependent on his impressive array of elemental powers. Suddenly, Hydros heard the distant clomping of his foe’s footsteps above on the land. He could not see his foe on the face of the lake, but he knew they were here. Be careful what you wish for, Hydros thought to himself. Gone was the time to dwell; he needed a plan and fast. Unfortunately, that moment of improvisational brilliance would never have its chance to present itself, as Hydros’ attention was drawn to a sudden, sharp tugging at his ankle. He looked down to see a thick, scaly tentacle wrapped around his leg, pulling him quickly towards the seabed. What madness is this?! Some sort of octopod Rahi? Surely not this far inland? Deciding to save the speculation for later, Hydros drew his sword and with a single, precise cut, he sliced the tendril from his leg. Now free, he swam upwards, kicking with all the strength he had in his legs. As he did so, he briefly caught a glimpse of the scaly limb he had just severed, which now drifted aimlessly in water’s current. His eyes widened as he gave it a closer look. It wasn’t a tentacle, it was a line of seaweed. Oh no, thought Hydros, which he then realised wasn’t necessarily the conventional or even sensible response one should have upon realising that they weren’t in fact being menaced by some savage and likely hungry aquatic Rahi. But it was, after all, why he had been so cautious of the mud earlier – in that earth laid the seeds for newly sprouting plants – all of which doubled as possible eyes and sensors for his enemy. Hydros could feel himself rising higher and higher, but before he had a chance to break the surface, he again felt a slimy green arm wrap around his left leg, distracting him long enough to allow yet another to grasp his right. As he looked down at those murky depths, he could see all the aquatic plant life twitching defiantly - the weeds, the reefs and the grass - all of it moving out of time with the rhythm of current. As if startled by Hydros’ stare, the aquatic fauna arrowed its weedy tendrils at the Toa, this time clenching his wrists, then his biceps before then snaking one particularly prickly blade of grass around his waist. Before long, Hydros had been encased in a thick cocoon of seaweed. Having now found himself firmly within the grasp of the most spectacularly ill-tempered seabed in the whole universe, Hydros was somewhat surprised to find himself being sent in the exact direction he had been swimming in: back towards the surface. The surface got closer and closer until Hydros exploded from the lake, the weeds expelling him out with awesome prejudice. He barely had a moment to breathe before his face greeted the ground with a particularly rough hello. As the Toa sat there on the sandbank, coughing, spluttering and in general needing some dignity, the Toa found his arms and legs free again, the seabed having apparently let him go. Hydros then forced himself to blink the sand out of eyes, only to then find himself at the heel of an too familiar figure. Hydros sprung to his feet without thinking, wildly swinging his sword in the general direction of his opponent and only stopping when his blade finally met the steel of his enemy. No longer inconvenienced by the lumps of sand besmirching his gaze, Hydros finally locked eyes with the stony gaze of Toa Zuvak. Zuvak, ever practical in his choice of words, had insisted for much of his very long life that he was a Toa of Plant-Life, rather than a Toa of the Green. In fact, other than for Mata Nui, it seemed about the only cause he was truly willing to die for. For one so in tune with the natural world he seemed to have little patience for the flowery language used to describe it. It was at this point, Hydros felt a vine begin to discreetly wrap around his right ankle. Immediately, Hydros’ next move became obvious. Mustering the not inconsiderable strength that lay in his arms, Hydros shifted his weight and brought an overwhelming force to the deadlock between himself and his mentor, doing all he could to press the veteran Toa back. After a brief moment of resistance, Zuvak broke away and conceded his ground to the might of his pupil’s raw strength, giving Hydros the momentary distraction he needed to sever the organic bonds on his feet. He returned his attention to Zuvak and launched at him again. The two exchanged a quick parry of blades, before firmly locking their swords again in stalemate. The two struggled against each other’s strength as they begun to circle one unsteadily. Hydros was stronger, but Zuvak had the better footing. It was only until Zuvak’s back was to the water that Hydros felt it appropriate to exchange words. Conversation was apparently not the hottest commodity on Daxia. “Hardly playing fair today, Zuvak,” grunted Hydros. His eyes quickly darted over the water, before noting Zuvak’s proximity to it. A plan sprung to mind. Correction: conversation was by far and away Daxia’s hottest commodity, but only when playing for time. The elder Toa smiled wryly. “Your enemies won’t even be half as generous as I’m being right now.” Hydros gritted his teeth as he dug his heels into the mud, applying more and more pressure against Zuvak’s sword. In spite of the veteran’s confidence, Hydros could see Zuvak being forced back, step by step. Closer and closer to the water… Hydros smiled. He went back to glare at Zuvak’s weathered features one last time, but his opponent’s face had already disappeared. Suddenly, Hydros’ eyes widened as he lurched forward, victim of gravity and his own weight. In the absence of Zuvak's resistance, the only barrier between Hydros and the lake had disappeared. He only had the briefest of seconds to see Zuvak leaping off to the side to let physics trap his student in his own hastily-conceived plan. As Hydros stumbled, his ankle caught a root that he knew for a fact had not been there a second ago. And then, for the second time and with an almighty splash, Hydros broke the surface of the water. Yet again, Hydros’ gills breathed in the thick, cloudy swamp water. Yet again, Hydros found himself staring down at the lakebed. Yet again, Hydros found himself staring at the angriest armada of seaweed the universe had ever known. Oh no, was all the Toa could think. Characters *Hydros *Zuvak Trivia *At four pages, this is currently Chicken Bond's shortest story. *This story, entitled Past Glories in older drafts, was originally expected to be a much bigger adventure. The story was meant to present an adventure where Hydros, Kazepza and Kevtho would travel to the Southern Islands on behalf of the Order of Mata Nui to put down a revival of the Xevthian Empire, as masterminded by Makuta Zomahk and Vamahk. **Unfortunately, Chicken Bond was not able to write the rest of this story in time for the deadline, and thus he chose to submit the first scene of the story.